


The Winter Soldier: Temporary Sugar Daddy and Guardian Angel

by WinterSabbath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, He's just rich, Humor, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Secret Identity, Sugar daddy bucky but as a joke, Supportive Avengers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, and Sam is suspicious, but they sort it out really fast, shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSabbath/pseuds/WinterSabbath
Summary: “I need a toy.”“Uh.” Steve’s eyes flickered over to the ‘CLOSED’ sign he had hung up on the door and then back to the weapons that were attached to the man’s body. He decided it was better not to get murdered for not doing what this guy wanted. “What... kind?”“A train.”Steve blinked. “Sir, you’re bleeding all over the floor.”OR while Steve is working a late shift in the toy store, a bleeding man stumbles inside, looking for a gift.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 23
Kudos: 382
Collections: Star Spangled Secret Santa 2020





	The Winter Soldier: Temporary Sugar Daddy and Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jakobthour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakobthour/gifts).



> This is for my giftee, jakobthour. Had a lot of fun writing this one so I hope you enjoy!!

Steve was counting the register’s money when a man stumbled inside the toy shop, bleeding all over the floor.

Steve’s hand paused over the bills, and he blinked at the guy. He looked around to see if the shop was under attack or something, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. The street outside was as peaceful as a New York street could be and the only people in the shop were Steve and this guy.

“Isn’t it too late for Halloween?” Steve found himself asking after he had stared for a good minute.

The guy, whose mouth and nose were covered by a mask, huffed out a laugh. He stood up straight despite his bleeding leg and walked over to Steve.

“I need a toy.”

“Uh.” Steve’s eyes flickered over to the ‘CLOSED’ sign he had hung up on the door and then back to the weapons that were attached to the man’s body. He decided it was better not to get murdered for not doing what this guy wanted. “What... kind?”

“A train.”

Steve blinked. “A train,” he repeated.

“Yes. Do you have that?”

“Well—I mean, yes, we do, but...” Steve finally gave in and said: “Sir, you’re bleeding all over the floor.”

The man glanced down at the floor as though only realizing now that he was bleeding. He looked back up. “Sorry. Do you sell first aid kits?”

They didn’t. But Steve had one anyway in the back room. He figured if the man wanted to steal money, he could’ve simply threatened Steve with one of his weapons, so Steve gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he had no intention of stealing money laid out on the counter.

Once Steve got back from the back room with a first aid kit in his hands, the man was staring at a nearby shelf with toy trains on them. The money on the counter remained untouched.

“Here you go,” Steve said, handing over the kit.

“Thanks,” said the man. He pointed to one of the trains. “You think a six year old would enjoy that?”

Steve’s lips twitched. “I work here. I’m supposed to say yes so you buy it.”

The man chuckled a little behind his mask. “Alright. I’ll take it. I’m late enough for the party.”

“You’re turning up to a party with kids looking like that?”

The man shook his head and sat down on one of the boxes that could carry his weight. He took out a bandage from the kit and began to wrap it around the wound. After a few more minutes of silence as Steve watched the man patch himself up like this was a normal, everyday occurrence, the man glanced up and tilted his head. “People usually freak out when they see me.”

“Am I supposed to recognize you or something?”

“Well, no.”

“So why am I supposed to freak out?”

The man raised his eyebrows. “You have zero sense of self preservation.”

Steve rolled his eyes and took the train set off the shelf. “I’ve been told that plenty of times.” He waved the box in the air. “That’s a hundred and fifty.”

The man took out an incredibly _normal_ wallet from one of his pockets. He handed Steve a five hundred dollar bill. “I could stab you right now.”

Steve took the money. “But you haven’t.”

Truth be told, Steve was terrified. The nonchalant demeanor he was putting on only did so much to actually cover up the way his palms were sweating. But Steve was no stranger to danger—granted, danger didn’t usually turn up in a mask and weapons attached to their body.

The man rolled his eyes and stood, closing the first aid kit. “Thanks. You can keep the change.”

“It’s three hundred fifty dollars—” that was more than the _cost_ of the set.

“Consider it a tip.” He glanced at the blood-stained floor, took the train set, and shrugged. “Or compensation for ruining your floors.”

With a lazy salute, the man left the shop, leaving nothing but his blood behind. Steve sighed, still holding the money in his hand. Well, whoever the guy was, he definitely had some money to spare.

* * *

Christmas day came and went uneventfully. Steve sat at home with some hot chocolate and drew the view from his balcony. He had no family to celebrate with, and his friends were all doing their own thing. The Christmas Eve encounter Steve had with the bleeding man had almost been forgotten.

Then, on the twelfth of January, Steve was carrying a milkshake and walking past a relatively empty street when the motorcycle next to him exploded.

 _Next to him_ , might’ve been an exaggeration, but it was pretty damn close.

“Fuck,” a familiar voice said, and Steve turned around to see the masked man standing a few meters away on the sidewalk, staring at the burning bike.

The logical thing to do was keep walking. Pretend he never saw anything. But, as his friends have told him multiple times, Steve wasn’t the most sensible guy when it came to steering clear of potential injury or even death.

“That happen often?” Steve asked once he walked close enough to be heard.

The man looked at him, familiarity appearing in his eyes. “Oh, hey. Thanks for that train set, by the way. Kid loved it.” He jerked a thumb at the bike. “Do you happen to be a mechanic?”

“No, but I don’t think a mechanic could fix that.”

“My boss is going to kill me.”

“Is this your company’s bike or something?” Steve asked, like it’s completely normal to talk about work while a bike burned right next to them.

“Nah. I’m late, though.”

“I think your boss will understand.”

The man laughed, throwing his head back. “Not really, no. He’s not exactly the understanding type.”

“I’d offer you a ride in my car, but I don’t exactly have the money to buy one.”

“You don’t have a car?” he asked, almost incredulous.

Steve glared at him. “You don’t gotta be so judgmental. Not everyone can afford to buy one. Or keep up with gas prices.”

“Right. Sorry. It’s fine.” With a shrug, the man took his phone out and typed something in quickly before clicking his tongue and looking at Steve again. “You’re not supposed to be on this street, you know?”

“Why? Is someone running a drug cartel?” Because that seemed like the kind of thing this guy was involved in.

The man snorted. “Not quite.”

Steve transferred his drink to his other hand, feeling his fingers go numb from the cold. “Do you work for the FBI?”

“I’m really not supposed to be answering those kinds of questions.”

Steve made a show of looking around and leaned forward, whispering, “Is someone watching?”

“Someone’s always watching,” the man said, serious. Steve leaned back, surprised. He had said it as a joke and didn’t really expect the answer to be _yes_.

“Oh.”

The man glanced down at his phone and then pocketed it, giving Steve a nod. “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

Steve opened his mouth to say goodbye then— “Wait, what? Why do you know my name?” Did this guy dig up his legal record or something? Did he find a birth certificate? A passport?

The guy’s eyes were crinkled, and Steve could only assume he was smiling. “Relax. I read your nametag when I came into the store last month.”

Steve blinked. “Oh.” He huffed, frowning. “Not fair. I don’t know your name.”

The guy stopped to think for a moment then conceded: “You can call me Winter, if you want.”

Knowing that was the most he could get out of the man, Steve sighed and waved. “Okay, Winter. Bye.”

“Bye!” and Winter jogged out of view.

* * *

The next day, a Mercedes employee parked a car in Steve’s apartment building, waited for him by the entrance, and gave him a key to a Mercedes as well as a credit card that the employee assured was _going to be paid for every month so you can pay for gas and maintenance._

Steve had blinked at her, ignored the keys, and asked: “Who exactly is _paying_?”

She stared back. “The buyer told me to tell you that I’m not allowed to say anything.”

“I can’t just take a _car_!”

“I can have it if you want,” she said, then belatedly cracked a smile.

Steve huffed, snatching the keys in her hand. Someone had bought a car for _him_ , and he wasn’t going to give it away unless it was to return it to the owner.

Steve’s mind slipped to his encounter with Winter yesterday. Winter was _rich_ , and Steve had told him yesterday he didn’t have a car. Though Winter brushed it off, saying it was no big deal, Steve was pretty sure it _was_ a big deal.

* * *

Steve saw Winter a month and a half later, and New York was under attack. Steve and Sam just happened to be at its epicenter when it happened.

“Of all the ways to die,” Sam muttered as they crouched behind a destroyed bus.

“Killer robots not how you thought you’d go?” Steve asked, panting. He hadn’t been able to bring his inhaler with him. He coughed. “Fuck, we need to get out of here.”

“No shit,” Sam said. “Stay with me, man. You better not collapse.”

“I am _not_ ,” he heaved, “going to collapse.”

Then, something flew past Steve’s ear, and an arrow stuck to the car, right between him and Sam. Steve looked, eyes wide.

“Is that a bomb?” Sam asked.

“I don’t think so.” Steve peered closer and furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, there’s a letter.”

A paper was attached to the arrow, and on it was a hastily written message.

_Run towards 15 th street. There’s a military perimeter set up there. Winter will cover for you. - Hawkeye _

Sam leaned over Steve’s shoulder to read the letter. “I know Hawkeye’s an Avenger, but who the hell is Winter?”

“A friend,” Steve muttered, shoving the paper in his pocket. “Let’s go.”

“You’re just gonna trust a random—”

“Sam, if we don’t go now, we’re probably going to die.”

With that, they ran. And with every block, any robot that came within a few feet were taken out immediately by bullets raining from nearby buildings.

* * *

They were only two blocks away before Steve’s breath gave out on him and he had to lean against the building, trying to regain his balance. The world swayed around him, and his vision had already begun to darken three blocks ago.

“Steve,” Sam said, urgently. “Just two more blocks and we’ll be safe. I can see the military from here.”

“Yeah. Just.” Steve waved a hand in the air, trying to steady himself. “I can’t... it’s... I need to lie down...”

“No, no, no,” Sam said when Steve closed his eyes. “Steve, stay with me.”

“I’ll take it from here,” said a voice from behind Steve. Winter. “You can go ahead, I’ll carry him.”

“Okay, who the fuck are you?”

“It’s okay, Sam, he’s a friend,” Steve mumbled, even though his vision was already turning black around the edges and he could feel his knees giving out.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone with some guy who looks like an assassin.”

“Former, actually. Anyway, I can carry him.” To prove his point, Winter shoved his gun in its holster and stooped to pick Steve up, bridal-style. Steve nuzzled his face into Winter’s chest as he and Sam talked. “You can run?”

“Well, yeah,” Sam said.

“Go. I can’t protect you while I’ve got Steve.”

Sam looked at Steve, jaw clenched. “You have so much explaining to do.”

Steve gave him a thumbs up before he took off running. Then, Winter brushed a hair from Steve’s forehead, tilting his head. “You alright?”

“You a superhero or something?” Steve asked, squinting at him.

“Or something,” Winter mumbled. He took a look around, probably trying to make sure the coast was clear. After a quick glance, he held Steve tighter and ran, not looking as though Steve’s weight was slowing him down at all.

* * *

“Shut up,” Steve muttered were walking back to Steve’s place. Winter had turned and left right after he had dropped Steve off at the perimeter. Steve had sat, watched the fight go down, saw the Avengers win, then walked back home with Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even said anything.”

“Your face.”

“My face?”

“Yeah! You did the thing where you looked like you were close to questioning all of my life decisions.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve made some good decisions in your life, Rogers. But befriending a random man who could kill you—”

“Sam, he’s a superhero.”

Sam made a noise of exasperation. “Steve, we’ve never even _heard_ of the guy until now. I’m pretty sure he was supposed to be kept a secret until he had to run down and carry your ass to safety.”

“Are you saying he _shouldn’t_ have done that?”

“No, I’m just wondering _why_ he—” Sam stopped in his tracks, squinting at Steve’s apartment building. “Why is there a Mercedes parked outside? I didn’t think rich people were hanging here now.”

“Oh. Uh. Huh.” Steve looked away, begging his cheeks not to turn red. “That’s weird.”

Sam looked between Steve and the Mercedes. Then at Steve. Then back at the Mercedes. “Steve,” he said flatly.

“Mhm?” Steve answered casually. So maybe his voice was a little strangled. It wasn’t _that_ obvious.

“Is that yours?”

Steve cleared his throat, sheepishly looking at Sam. “No?”

“Steve, please don’t tell me Winter bought that for you.”

“Well, _technically_ , I don’t know who bought it for me. It was an anonymous gift.”

“Steven Grant, is Winter your sugar daddy?”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he smacked Sam’s arm. “Jesus fuck, no!”

He wasn’t denying it because to deny would mean it was true. He was simply telling Sam that he thought wrong. And yet Sam continued to look at him dubiously the rest of their time together.

* * *

The fourth time Steve saw Winter was at a press conference.

But first, to be clear, Steve Rogers was not the type of person to get invited to press conferences. He had no reason whatsoever to be at a press conference.

Which was why receiving an invitation from _Pepper Potts_ was... well, it felt like a scam was what it was.

For a few days, Steve didn’t acknowledge the contents of the letter. He had read it once then chucked it into the trash, sure that a couple of teenagers were just playing a prank on him. The letter had stated he was invited to a press conference regarding important matters that he would probably want to hear about and then went on to say he would be picked up by a driver and taken to the conference.

And because Steve was the idiot who became acquaintances with a superpowered being. Well.

A driver did show up for him and took him to the press conference. But first he made a detour to pick up Sam because there was no way he was going to deal with this alone.

“Okay, this is insane,” Sam said as he climbed into the car, frazzled. He probably didn’t expect to be doing this on Saturday night. Which, to be fair, neither did Steve.

When they arrived at the venue, the place was already packed with reporters. But instead of taking them to the audience chairs, the guards instead led them backstage.

“Your sugar daddy’s not gonna kill us, is he?”

“Stop calling him that!” Steve hissed.

“He bought you a car after you met twice!”

“I know!”

“On what world do you think that’s normal?!”

“Shut up.”

They were brought into a bare room with a conference table. The guards motioned at the chairs, and one of them said: “The Avengers will be with you shortly.” Then they turned around and left.

Steve wasn’t really sure what he was expecting on their way here. Sure, meeting the Avengers seemed _reasonable_ because _Pepper Potts_ invited him. But it wasn’t exactly a possible thought that crossed his mind.

He stared at the door, a little stunned.

“Rogers, I swear,” Sam muttered.

Steve sniffed. “Relax, we won’t get killed.”

Sam leaned back on the chair, folding his arms with a huff. “Coming from you, that’s not reassuring. You have a MMA fighter as your sugar daddy.”

“I’ll have to disagree.” Steve jumped at the sound of Winter’s voice. He shifted in his seat to see Winter walking inside, feet barely making a sound. He nodded at Steve, a shine in his eyes that indicated amusement. “I’m actually more of a sniper than a close combat fighter.”

Sam leaned forward, suddenly looking much less nervous than he did a few minutes ago. “But you aren’t denying the sugar daddy part.”

“Well, back in my day, sugar daddies weren’t so commonplace. So, I’m not really sure if I qualify.”

“Wait,” Steve said, holding up a hand, “What do you mean back in your day?”

“Well, I _want_ to tell you, but I still have to fill out so much paperwork to do that, then you’ll have to fill up paperwork once I tell you. It’s going to take awhile.” Winter shrugged, petting Steve’s hair playfully. “Anyway, Widow was the one who told me to bring you over. You’re the reason we’re hosting this presscon, after all.”

Steve frowned. “What did _I_ do?”

“Well, people saw pictures of me on the battlefield when I carried you, and they _really_ want to know who I am.”

“So you’re taking the mask off?”

Winter snorted. “No, of course not. I have a life outside of this job too, you know?”

“Was that the only reason you brought me here?”

“Well,” Winter chuckled a bit under his mask, “I _did_ want to see your pretty face too.”

Then he winked. He’d probably blow a kiss Steve’s way if he wasn’t wearing a mask. With a final huff of amusement, Winter turned and walked out the room.

“JARVIS will show you guys the live press!” he said before disappearing. On cue, a television rose from the middle of the table, already streaming a live view of the auditorium.

Steve blinked.

“Was that flirting?” he asked Sam. “That was flirting, right?”

Sam buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God, why are we friends?”

* * *

The main point of the press conference was simply to establish three things:

  1. The Winter Soldier (which was Winter’s superhero name, apparently) was a founding member of the Avengers and could be trusted on the field as much as the rest of them.
  2. SHIELD kept him a secret because undercover agents and snipers worked better when they weren’t world famous (but now the fame was inevitable because of the little stunt he and Steve pulled).
  3. Winter would prefer that everyone respect his decision to keep his identity a secret.



When the conference was over, Winter was the first to get off the stage, quickly followed by the rest of the team. It was a shitfest, as one would expect most press conferences to go. Everyone was questioning Winter’s reliability especially since they knew nothing about him.

“The public’s not going to trust a masked man who won’t even give them a name,” Sam murmured when the livestream ended. He didn’t sound mad, just thoughtful.

“Well, if the public would just respect their privacy, then maybe Winter would consider telling them their identity.”

“No can do, Steve-o.”

Steve turned to see Tony Stark stroll in, the rest of the Avengers trailing behind him. They all took seats around the table, exhausted.

“If Winter goes public with his identity, trust me, the public will go batshit,” Stark continued. He took his glasses off, pointing at Steve. “Though he does want to tell _you_.”

“But paperwork is fucking _insane_ , man,” Hawkeye added.

Steve was still trying to process the situation. Though he did feel like he was handling it much better than Sam. Poor Sam. His jaw was dropped open and he was looking back and forth between Steve and the Avengers, probably trying to decide who was more insane.

Winter sat next to Steve and glanced around his team. “Can you guys leave us alone please?”

They stared at him with raised eyebrows.

Probably expecting it, Winter just sighed and shook his head. He looked back at Steve. “Okay, so, my friends are a bunch of assholes—”

“At least we’re your friends!” Hawkeye said.

Winter rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Steve, uh. Well, you’ve been real nice to me since we’ve met, see. And I wanted to know if we could go out. Together. Like, a date.” He looked at Sam with narrowed eyes. “Not as a sugar daddy thing.”

Before Steve could properly respond. Heck, before he could even _think_ about the question (to which he’d probably have answered with a resounding _yes!_ ), an alarm blared throughout the room for three seconds, piercing Steve’s already weak ears. He jumped in his seat, stunned.

“Shit,” Winter muttered. He looked up at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him. “Fucking hell. Can’t we get a moment of peace?”

“Life of the superhero, darling,” Tony said with a sarcastic smile. He was already in the middle of putting on his armor.

“Is that the Avengers alarm or something?”

“Yeah.” Winter huffed. “I promise, we’ll continue this conversation, okay? I have to go.”

“Wait, but I—"

But the Avengers were already jumping out the window, most of them landing onto the jet that was already waiting except for Thor and Stark—those two flew alongside it.

Steve sighed.

Sam patted his back.

* * *

Steve didn’t hear from Winter for a week. So, he buried himself in work and art and tried not to think about it.

The door to the toy shop opened to a new customer, the bells chiming softly. Steve was in the back room, so he ignored it. His co-worker, Wanda, would deal with the customer. Meanwhile, Steve had to finish fixing the new shipments before he could go back outside.

He could hear two voices, one of a man and another of a little girl. He couldn’t really hear what was being said, though.

Then, the door opened and Wanda walked inside. “Steve, I’ll take over this. The guy out there was looking for you.”

“Me?” Steve asked, confused. He certainly didn’t know anyone that knew a child.

“Well, he asked for a Steve, and you’re the only Steve I know, so _yes_ , you.”

When Steve stepped out to the store, there was a man, about his age, with his long hair tied in a ponytail. He was waiting by the counter, smiling, his hand placed on the shoulders of a little girl.

Steve blinked. Once. Twice.

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and croaked: “You look like Sergeant Bucky Barnes.” Except, Bucky Barnes died in the 1940’s. He most certainly didn’t live until the 21st century.

The smile on the man’s face disappeared quickly.

“How do you know who I am?”

Steve blinked again. He knew that voice.

“Wait— _Winter?_ ”

Winter—or Bucky? —pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, Steve, can we talk somewhere private? This is really confidential, and I thought you’d be alone in the shop today so...”

“Oh, uh, Wanda’s—”

“Going to be leaving, now, actually,” Wanda said, coming out from the back room. She already had her small bag hanging around her shoulder. “And Wanda did _not_ hear anything that could get her killed by government agencies.”

Bucky stared at her. “You trust this girl, Steve?”

“Yes! Jesus, you don’t have to kill her,” Steve said, shooing Wanda away before Bucky decided that she couldn’t be trusted.

“Hey!” Bucky frowned. “I wasn’t going to...”

“Uncle Bucky wouldn’t kill anyone,” the little girl piped up, looking up at her _uncle_ , “right?”

Bucky gazed down at her, parting his mouth a bit. Saying _yes_ would be a lie because Bucky Barnes was a World War 2 soldier, so he had to kill people whether he liked it or not. Saying _no_ was... out of question.

Bucky just patted her instead, and looked back at Steve. “So, this is Emma. Becca’s great great granddaughter.”

Emma nodded proudly. “Uncle Bucky is very old. He knew great great grandma Becca!” She pouted. “I never met her.”

“Well, she was awesome.” Bucky looked at Steve again. “I get to hang out with Emma a lot. And the rest of... well, the Barnes family of the 21st century.”

Steve could see that he was close to tearing up but decided not to mention it. Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier, well, they sounded like they’ve been through things Steve could never even imagine.

Bucky continued: “Anyway, the train set I bought. I got it for her. So I thought it was fitting... to bring her here.”

Steve, sue him, was still staring into space, processing. “I... get that, but I’m still kind of hung up on the fact that... you’re, uh, alive.”

“Well, it’s a long story. That I am now legally allowed to tell you.” Bucky blushed, looked down with a shy smile. “But I was kind of hoping you’d allow me to take you out for dinner first?”

Now, who was Steve to say no to that?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!! Hope you liked this :)


End file.
